


indulgence

by Anonymous



Category: Vinland Saga (Anime), Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Accidental Vagina Acquisition, Brother/Brother Incest, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, PIV, Sex Pollen, Sibling Incest, dub-con due to sex pollen, magical genitalia change, nothing actually happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22142716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Torgrim and Atli run afoul of strange magic during a raid.
Relationships: Torgrim/Atli (Vinland Saga)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: Anonymous





	indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> The otouto pussy indulgence fic. That's all.  
> @ vincestsaga on twitter for more brocontent!
> 
> Consent Notes: The usual issues inherent to sex pollen, but both are impaired to the same degree when making the mutual decision to have sex.
> 
> Gender Notes: Cis men acquiring a vagina-vulva setup through magic, with no other physical changes, resulting in PIV and cunnilingus. "He" pronouns are used throughout and 'female' terminology is used for the genitalia.

There's nothing that unusual about the house, nor even about the plant, which they both inspect pretty carefully just for how fucking weird it is, keeping such a big plant inside.

"It must smell better in the spring," is Atli's final verdict. He's still stuck on it after Torgrim's moved on to a big chest that looks promising.

"What're you obsessing over the plant for? Give me a hand here before someone else decides to hit this house."

It's a little place on the edge of the village, removed from the other houses in both space and design. These are the best places to sack, in Torgrim's opinion. Usually means a weird recluse with something stashed away, and the two of them can sack it alone and move on before the other men are done sizing up who's going to be working with who this time.

"It all goes to the same place anyways," Atli mutters, joining him at the chest and jiggling one of the padlocks, as if that's going to help any.

"We've got to pull our weight," Torgrim says. "Don't start slacking just because you saw a pretty flower." He does a quick scan of the area for hiding places someone might put a key.

"It's not about it being pretty. I'm just trying to understand the local mind. How many locks did they put on this thing?"

"Too many. Get your hand back." Torgrim lifts his axe and finishes the lid off with a few quick chops, blood droplets splattering off the axe-head and flecking chest and bedspread alike. The lid's pretty flimsy for something with so many locks.

"Don't give me too much notice or anything!" Atli rubs his arm, annoyed and playing it up. "Ugh, shit, it's just game pieces."

"Not even. You couldn't make up a full game board with these." Torgrim lifts a couple of the tiny statues, barely able to believe they're the only thing in here. "Who the hell puts their kid's toys in a huge chest like this?"

"Kid's toys?" Atli snickers. "These aren't for any kid."

"What're you talking about?" He turns one of the statues, trying to figure out what it's even meant to be. This art shit's such a waste of time when it doesn't even look like anything. A person, that's all he can make out.

"Well, you know. They look kind of dirty, don't they?"

Torgrim looks down at the other statues in the chest, then frowns at his brother. "You need to get laid."

"Not enough to settle for anyone in this village. Did you see them? My cock nearly shriveled right up into my guts."

"Inbreeding," Torgrim says, dropping one of the statues back onto the little pile. "Tiny island like this, it's bound to start happening." They didn't look much different from the usual fare to him, but Atli can be picky and he doesn't care enough to start an argument.

"D'you smell something?" Atli reaches into the chest and picks up a third figure, or maybe the same one Torgrim just dropped. "Look, I'm telling you. This was someone's wank stash. Why else would they have all the padlocks?"

"Why would anyone padlock their wank stash in their own home?" Torgrim looks up at the bed. "There was only one man living here, anyway."

"But this is..." Atli seems to be concentrating hard on the figure in his hand, trying to make sense of it. Then he looks up. "You don't smell anything?"

"What are you going on about?" Torgrim snaps. "The house was empty, who would I be smelling in here?"

"No, it's a good smell. Smells like..." Atli's mustache twitches. "It must be that flower," he says suddenly, turning his head. "That's it. It's funny, I didn't notice anything when I was up close. Must take a few minutes to sink in. It's not bad."

Torgrim sits back on his knees and tries to examine his brother's coloring in the lamplight. It doesn't look off, and he doesn't recall anything even coming near Atli that might have left him punch-drunk. But there's no smell in this room. One of them is wrong, and Torgrim's certain it's not him.

"Why don't we get back to the others," he says, carefully. Best to have Atli looked over by someone who might've seen this type of thing before. His own experience is pretty limited, with injuries and battle madness alike. They've never had to worry about those things, looking after each other like they do.

"Yeah?" Atli turns back to him, looking a bit confused. "We didn't pick anything up, though."

"This place isn't worth anything. Let's hurry."

"Well, all right." Atli looks at the statue he's holding and drops it back into the chest with a clink. "You're going to keep that one? It's small enough, you could probably hide it."

Torgrim looks down at his own hand and realizes he's still holding tight onto the one he picked up. It might be two people, now he thinks of it. "Oh, er, no. It's nothing interesting, I just forgot."

Atli staggers when he stands up. "Light-headed," he says when Torgrim catches him. "I'm fine."

"Look," Torgrim says, really worried now. "You need some rest, at the very least. Come on, they might've left a midwife alive or something, we'll see what's going on."

"I just need some fresh air. This smell's starting to..." He stops there in the middle of the room. Torgrim can't budge him, even pulling as hard as he wants to, with Atli in a possibly delicate state.

"Atli, what the hell's gotten into you?"

"Brother." He's patting down the whole front of his tunic, frowning and looking more confused than ever. "I don't feel right."

"You're sick or something. That's why I'm getting you back to—"

"No, no, don't take me anywhere. Don't bring anyone here, I'm not..." Without any warning, he starts to strip.

"What are you _doing_?"

"Help me," Atli begs. "Oh, fuck, something's wrong."

He's done with the top layers before Torgrim can even decide he might as well humor him. He helps, a little hesitantly, with the pants, and Atli's already swearing softly to himself when they come off to reveal nothing.

Which is a problem.

"Nooo," Atli moans. "Oh, no. No, no."

Something behind Torgrim's eyes feels too light. "What... what's going on? Somebody cut you earlier? I didn't see anything."

"No. No one." Atli presses a hand to the nothing, as if he's feeling for something hidden inside it. "Shit."

"Don't touch it, you're hurt! This is a bad one, this is—we've got to get you to..."

"It's not a wound," Atli says sharply. "It just happened. I need—" He pauses. "I need something, I don't know what."

"Someone to look at you," Torgrim reminds him. "Someone has to make sure you're not hurt."

"That's not it, it's something simpler. I just can't... What were we doing?" He puts a hand to the side of his head, and his eyes are looking too far away.

"I don't remember," says Torgrim, feeling equally confused. The smell's making it so hard to think. And this smutty little statue, he thought he dropped that. "Look, you can't lean on me now, with me wearing this stuff. I'd better get it off. Things'll make sense then."

His chainmail's on the floor before he realizes it. And the smell feels so warm he takes the rest off too. The world doesn't make much more sense, though, except how close Atli is, and he has to grab his brother to make things stop reeling.

"'S too warm," Atli says to him. 

"Yeah." It's Atli he's smelling, Torgrim's figuring out, because they're close, and the heat coming off his brother is better than the heat that's boiling his own body from the inside. There's another smell in the room and he breathes Atli in to drown that out, and he can feel Atli breathing him in.

"I think," Atli says, slowly. "I think I shouldn't be needing. What I'm..."

"It's all right," Torgrim tells him. "I'm going to give you everything you need."

They've been together all their lives, and Torgrim knows what it's supposed to look like down here. Not like this. Different from his for the first time, a soft lump covered with light hair and the space between the legs split in half by nothing. Nothing except for his own cock sliding inside, the cleft opening up for him and soaking already with need. In the lamplight their crotch hair's almost the same color, pressed together like this. 

It's softer than silk inside his brother, inside his Atli, and the sounds he's making are like nothing he's ever made when they share a woman. He sounds so much better up close like this, the strange keening noises of a man needing to be _taken_.

"There you go," Torgrim says, taking hold of the thighs that are spreading apart to take him in deeper. They're as hairy as ever, and he can tell his brother's chest is still flat. It's just between his legs that's changed.

"Fuck," is all Atli says, hands over his face.

Torgrim's not quite all there at the moment, but he knows a request when he hears one. He takes a moment to make sure everything's lined up right, and then complies.

This absence between his brother's legs is warm and wet, like every other cunt he's had, but Torgrim's careful with this one, even through the haze; this is _Atli_ , after all, and he can't have anything hurting him. This is to make him feel good, get the heat to let up on both of them. He says some gentle things, he thinks, and Atli doesn't say much back in words, just bucks and lifts and spreads wider when he's asked. Being taken care of right, like always.

Torgrim's never had a woman tremble around him like his brother does, once he's been taken far enough. But then he's never bothered holding back this long. He knows what this is, though, he's heard of it. So he's about to let himself finish too when Atli grabs his hand and asks for it again.

His head's still blank enough to struggle with the idea of not letting himself come _now_ , when he wants to, but Atli's always had some kind of key to the part of his mind that doesn't do any thinking at all, just moves to keep his brother safe. He still looks like Torgrim's helpless little baby brother when he really begs, even with the mustache, and Torgrim slows down. "Yeah," he says. "Of course. Just hang on."

Atli lies back gratefully and Torgrim fucks his pussy until he comes again, and then he goes so limp Torgrim knows it's safe to finish himself. It doesn't take much. Just a few more thrusts thinking about how hot his cock's feeling, and all the heat comes out of him in one long spurt. Inside his brother.

They lie on the floor for a while, until the room starts to feel cold, and then they sit up at the same time to start getting dressed. Torgrim's head feels heavy, and he doesn't feel any real need to look at Atli. He knows exactly what he's doing anyway, he always puts everything on in the same order.

Torgrim nearly kicks the little statue away from him, when he sees it on the floor, but he doesn't have the nerve and they both move nervously around it as they make for the door, in the direction that takes them furthest away from the plant. The plant sits there quietly. No smell, no ominous color or movement to warn you.

They stagger back to the others, looking more fucked out than usual but heads cleared up now. Torgrim goes off alone and pukes behind a tree when he has the chance. He can't tell if it's from remembering the smell, or knowing exactly what his little brother looks like when he gets fucked.

They don't look at each other much until it's time to lie down for the night, and then Torgrim looks at his brother, not asking anything out loud, and Atli says under his breath, "Yeah."

It's still there.

In their tent, Torgrim counts twenty, and then thirty, trying to get a hold of himself. Then he counts thirty again. And then he rolls over to where Atli's legs are already spread for him, and buries his face between them.

This he's never done before. It might've had some magical sweet taste if he'd done it near the plant, but now it just tastes like human. Like his brother's scent turned into wetness, something he knows too well to describe in words. There are folds here he's seen a hundred times, always saving his interest for the important part—the spot his cock goes into. But these are _Atli's_ , and he can't help exploring.

It's clear pretty soon which spot makes his legs tighten and gets those gasps out of him, so Torgrim sticks to there. The bump at the top that must be like a prick for women. It makes a kind of sense. It's hot and stiff against his tongue, not quite like his own prick in his hands but close. He does some of the things he likes women doing on him, but on a smaller scale, and Atli likes that. So much that his gasps start sounding muffled, like he's stuck something in his mouth, and then he lets himself go a little more, going past gasps to groans and moans.

It's like eating something messy, is the main thing Torgrim's thinking once he's had the rhythm of it down for a while. He can feel the wet in his beard, just like during a feast good enough to give up on wiping his face between rounds. The same wet that was hitting his balls earlier.

"What's it feel like?" he asks afterwards, voice hushed.

Atli just clings to him, still breathing hard. It feels strange suddenly, being this close, and Torgrim's not sure he likes it.

He knows there's a reason they're being so quiet about this. He knows they weren't like this last night, nor even this morning. He knows they're two grown men, two brothers. They got carried away, that's all, with this strange thing that happened. They couldn't help it this afternoon, they forgot everything about their lives because they couldn't help it. But their heads are all right now, and they're grown men both.

"Atli," he says, hoping his brother will tell him to shut up and go to sleep.

"Fuck me again. It went all over me when you did that, I can't stop thinking about it."

"I can't," Torgrim says, already reaching to get his pants down.

"I need you to." Atli wriggles away from him, moving onto his stomach. They both know already his mouth'll have to be covered up by the folded clothes that serve as a pillow when they're on the road.

"I'm your big brother," Torgrim whispers, hoping his own ears will hear it, as he moves onto his knees and hikes his tunic up to get his cock out.

"I know," Atli says, voice cracking. "I'm sorry. It feels so good, please." His hips are working under Torgrim already, knees and feet grinding into the ground with a desperation no woman is supposed to show.

He couldn't go to anyone else for satisfaction, anyways. The whole band would be on him in a second if they knew. What they're going to do about bathing Torgrim can't begin to think. But right now his brother needs him to give the release he can't get any other way.

"It's all right," he tells Atli, and he slides into his brother's twat for the second time that day, holding his hips still with one hand as the other gets his own belly balanced where it's spilling over. "I'll take care of this."

Atli's whole body sags with relief for just a second and Torgrim knows he's doing the right thing.

It's slower this time, less frenzied than what he can remember of the first time. _Their_ first time. Atli moves against him sometimes, testing how the different kinds of friction feel, and sometimes they slip into sync, moving together like they do in battle. He comes slower too. It's a nice feeling, the warm passage kind of squeezing around Torgrim's cock, and they finish at about the same time.

"I'm sorry," Atli whispers again, body still trembling as he cuddles up to his brother. He's come four times today.

"It's fine." Torgrim touches his hair experimentally, and when it doesn't feel strange he starts to stroke it. "That house is doing something to you."

"No," Atli says, in a very small voice. "Only the first time. It just feels so good. I—I can't talk about it, I'll need it again."

"Don't worry about it." This is a man's sex drive holding sway over a woman's weak flesh. Torgrim draws Atli in closer. His brother needs him. More than just getting fucked, he needs to feel okay about it. "There's witchcraft going on here. I'll take care of everything, as long as you're like this. Just come and ask me."

Atli buries his face wordlessly against him and wraps his arms around him like they've never done as grown men. Neither of them needs to say out loud the kind of deep shit he could be in.

Torgrim keeps petting his hair and makes the same soothing noises he used to make when they were kids in bed together, in a different way back then. It doesn't matter if it feels funny thinking of this and that at the same time. Torgrim'll get used to it. His brother isn't going to be treated like a woman by any man, he'll see to that just like they've seen to every threat they've ever faced. Together. At the end of the day, they've only got each other.

* * *

Just when they're getting used to it, it switches on them. 

"Brother," Atli says, shaking him awake one morning long before sunup. "It's back."

Last night was the first in a while they hadn't needed to take the edge off. "Oh," Torgrim says fuzzily. "'S good. Good for you."

There's a silence. It's too stuffy inside the tent to do any real thinking and Torgrim reaches for the flap to get some clear morning air in, but Atli stops his hand. "You... feel different, though."

"Unh?" They've taken to cuddling up at nights, and Torgrim checks now, running his mental eye downward starting from the head. Around about his hips, something starts to feel off. Not just the erection jutting into him—although that's strange enough. No, it's the way he's feeling that erection. There's nothing pushing back against it. There's part of his brother taking over space that ought to be his.

"Oh," Torgrim says, fully awake now. "Oh, shit."

He spreads his own legs, pats himself down desperately, and finds nothing but a soft mound and a frighteningly small pulsing sensation. Atli helps getting his pants down, and he doesn't need to lift his tunic up to crystallize the image of what's down there now. His hand on warm flesh and hair tells him enough.

Now Atli does open the tent flap up a crack. "Brother," he says. "Take some air in. I'm here."

" _Shit_ ," Torgrim says. "Shit. Bathing days—"

"We'll handle it the same way. This can't last forever." 

"My cock," Torgrim says helplessly. "Oh, fuck."

"It's all right," Atli says, breath on his neck, mustache tickling his ear. "I'll take care of it."

His—what he has, now, he can't use the name—it won't take more than a finger and even that hurts. Torgrim can't figure out if this is more or less shameful than being wet for it right off the bat. His little brother kisses him then, for the first time, and he knows there's no going back now, ever, because it feels good. It calms him down.

Atli licks him out for a bit, until he can feel the pulsing spreading down into his thighs, and then Torgrim puts a hand on his shoulder when he feels like he wants to be looking at his brother's face. Atli climbs on him and tries his best for a few thrusts until Torgrim touches his shoulder again and gets him flipped onto his back, where they're both more comfortable.

Atli passes him up a pair of leggings to stuff in his mouth, and he's reaching for them in the same instant. They know each other's mind better than anyone else could, and they both know this is just how they are now.

"It feels good," Atli promises him, legs spread to be taken inside his brother.

"I've noticed."

It goes in easy this time. His brother's cock goes in smoothly, into a space inside him that isn't supposed to be there. It's an awful vulnerable feeling, having this open spot on him, spilling out wetness to make entrance even easier.

But there's a relief in having Atli be the one to fill it. He'd never let anyone else try keeping him safe like this, but his little brother moves with him, not trying to take over, and it makes things better. Atli's the one he can count on for things like this, the one who always rises to the occasion.

He's up on his elbows now, trying to push upwards. It's sweet, but the tent's right on the ground with no cushioning.

"Get off your arms, you'll be sore later. Just go flat, I'll manage this."

"You're still on your knees," Atli protests.

"I'll tell you if I need a rest," Torgrim says, touching his cheek. "Lie down and be good, there's a dear." Atli tilts his chin into it, eyes closed, before he lowers himself all the way down, letting his big brother ride him. It must be a load off his mind, getting to return the favor after being taken care of for so long.

Not that they keep track. It always comes out even in the end, what they do for each other.

The endearment passes without comment from either of them. They're like this now, after all. And Torgrim doesn't see any point in hashing everything out in words. They're going to have some long nights ahead of them, and talking's the last way he wants to waste them.


End file.
